


Allergies and Job Hunts

by Jadeycakes99



Series: Autistic Castiel [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Autism, M/M, Medication, Meg is an ethically questionable doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3928186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeycakes99/pseuds/Jadeycakes99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is sick and upset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allergies and Job Hunts

**Author's Note:**

> talesfromthechickpea is brilliant and fantastic and beta'd this for me.

Dean was sick. It wasn’t like he had to go to work or anything, which pissed him off a little bit, but since he was laid up in bed, he figured he may as well look for the umpteenth time for any garages or bars or shops looking for employees. He almost got out of bed, but found his laptop lying on Cas’s side of the with a post-it note stuck to its lid.

_Dean,_  
_I made you tea and it is in the thermos on the nightstand. If you need anything, Sam doesn’t have classes today and has agreed to stay home to take care of you. Please don’t worry too much about procuring a job until you are well._  
_–Your husband_

Dean rolled his eyes at the note. He wasn’t that sick. It was just a cold, he thought as he burst into a sneezing fit. Luckily, Grace had come to comfort him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said with a gentleness in his voice specific to her. He scratched behind her ears. “Do you like that?” he asked as she purred and leaned into his fingers. “Good kitty.”

Sam burst in with a grin that said, “I heard you.” Dean loved Sam, but he forgot what it was like to live with his nosy brother, but they had three bedrooms, so they couldn’t exactly say no after Jess kicked him out and his back was killing him from sleeping on the futon in his friend Brady’s dorm. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but instead came a bout of sneezing. 

After the violent sneezing fit, Dean managed to gasp, “What?”

“I just came in to see how you were doing, but I guess I got my answer.” Dean sneezed, which made him flinch and clutch his throat in pain. “Dude, you look like hell. You should really get that checked out,” Sam suggested. Dean rolled his eyes. Cas was pressing him to go to the doctor too.

“I’m fine,” he rasped and grabbed the thermos on the nightstand. “I have tea.”

“All right,” Sam said, putting his hands up. “Want something to eat?” Dean cringed at the thought of anything going down his raw throat, and even more at the thought of his brother’s cooking.

“I’m good,” he replied, opening his laptop and waving Sam off. Sam hesitated at the door for a moment before shrugging and heading into the kitchen.

Dean looked through local job listings, but the only ones he found that he was qualified for had obscure hours that neither he nor Cas would be happy with. He didn’t know when it happened, but he ended up drifting off.

“Dean! Dean!” Dean scrambled awake, startled from a heavy sleep.

“Huh?” he asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose in attempt to relieve the pressure in his head.

“Castiel left the number of Doctor Wesson on the counter. We’re going now. You looked dead, and it took me ten minutes to wake you up,” Sam said, voice full of concern. Dean glanced over at the clock, it was five p.m. 

“M’fine,” he said before erupting into sneezing fit that made him light headed.

“Can you even get up?” Sam wasn’t used to taking care of sick people, but his general rule was that as soon as they could be mistaken for a corpse, a doctor should be called. Dean glared at him and stood up, feeling blood rush to his head immediately, causing his vision to white out around the edges. He started to lose his balance and Sam rushed to his side.

“Whoa there,” Sam said, helping him sit back down. Dean took a moment before standing back up again.

“Let me get dressed at least?” Sam grinned, happy Dean was going, which was a surprise. Dean hated being sick, but he hated admitting he was sick even more.

“Okay,” Sam said, closing the door behind himself. Dean grabbed his phone to let Cas know he was going to see the doctor before dressing and meeting Sam at the car.

#

“Allergies,” Doctor Wesson said decisively.

“What am I allergic to?” Dean asked miserably. He hoped this had nothing to do with the croisookie he’d had the day after they moved in because it had been delicious.

“We’ll have to run some tests, but based on your chart, I’d say cats.”

Dean paled, or he would have if he wasn’t so red-faced from his allergies. Cas loved Grace, and though he had trouble admitting it to anyone but Grace herself, he loved her too.

“I’m going to go out to the lobby to call Cas, all right?” Sam asked, anxiously. As much as he teased his brother, he was worried.

After Sam stepped out, the doctor ran through a series of medication recommendations that Dean couldn’t really absorb. He also gave him a list of referrals to allergists in the area and asked if Dean was willing to find his cat another home. Dean was saved from answering when he heard his name being called from halfway down the hall. Seconds later his wide-eyed, out-of-breath husband was standing in the doorway. Dean sat up and gave him a reassuring smile. 

“I’m fine,” Dean said due to the wild look of worry on Castiel’s face. 

“I’ll leave you two for a moment,” the doctor said.  
Cas lingered in the exam room doorway staring at Dean. He wasn’t bleeding, had no visible wounds or bandages and he wasn’t wearing a cast. There was no visible bruising either, except for maybe under his eyes. Last night, Dean had woken up with a headache and began sneezing so badly that Cas had to get up and spend the rest of the night in his cool down room. 

“You are sick,” Cas said after a minute of deliberation. 

“Just allergies,” Dean replied, uncomfortably shifting in the bed. 

“I’m going to call Meg,” Cas said quickly. He had already decided on a course of action after listening to Sam’s voicemail telling him to meet the Winchesters at the hospital.

“No,” Dean groaned. “The doctor here is fine, great even. He already knows what’s going on and hasn’t mocked me for being sick, which I count as a plus.” He was only half joking. 

“Not all doctors are competent,” Castiel replied after a moment. There were incompetent doctors, especially psychiatrists, and he wanted someone he could trust.

“I promise, if they’re wrong, I’ll call her myself, but I’d really rather not. Could you sit down and talk to me while we wait for the doctor?” Dean asked gently. He was propped up on the examination table, the doctor would be back any minute. 

Sam had gone home launder Dean and Cas’s bed linens, and vacuum and air out their bedroom to hopefully eliminate some of the cat dander and help with Dean’s symptoms.

“Of course,” Cas replied stiffly. He was mindlessly digging his nails into the back of his hand. It was silent for a few minutes. 

“Did you drink the tea I made?” he asked, looking down at his lap. Starting conversations wasn’t his forte. Dean smiled.

“Yeah, I got your note too. It was sweet, but I didn’t listen.” Castiel met his smile.

“I figured as much at lunch. Did you find anything you’re interested in?” Dean’s grin faded and he looked away.

“Not really.” They went silent again.

“Were you not against being unemployed, I’d suggest you join a country club.” Dean wrinkled his nose and raised an eyebrow, but Cas didn’t quite get the gesture.

The doctor returned with a copy of his file for the allergist and a small packet on how to easily manage allergies. He ran back through the medication suggestions with Cas and then sent them on their way, advising that Dean call to make an allergist appointment as quickly as possible.

In the car, Dean returned to their conversation. 

“Why should I join a country club?” Dean asked. Castiel shrugged.

“It’s what Balthazar and Meg do for fun. I figured you might enjoy it as well,” Castiel replied, fingers still digging into his hand. Dean stifled a laugh.

“That’s sweet, but I’m not really the country club type, you know?” Dean said humbly. He hadn’t had the childhood Cas had, which was a blessing, but one difference was that the Winchesters never had money. They got by, sure, but with a mechanic father who occasionally lapsed into alcoholism and a teacher for a mother, they never had the money the Novaks had. When Dean considered how awful most of his husband’s family was, he thought that may have been a good thing.

“A coffee stand on campus has a sign that says, ‘hiring,’” Castiel suggested. He was aware the position wouldn’t be filled by Dean, but he was trying.

Dean patted his hand. “Thanks, but I’m not really interested in being a barista.” 

“You could be a student,” Castiel suggested, after having pondered for a moment. Dean tilted his head in confusion, a trait he’d picked up from his husband—one that Sam had seen fit to tease him mercilessly for.

“At Stanford?” The car pulled to a stop at a red light and Dean turned to his husband. Castiel’s expression softened into what seemed like he was attempting sympathy. 

“I’m afraid not. Your grades were average, veering on below average, which is surprising because you earned a 1400 on the SAT, which is just below mine. That’s approximately a 2000 nowadays.” 

“My SATs?” Dean asked wide eyed. They had been together for a few years, but he couldn’t recall any conversation where they traded SAT scores. Cas blushed. Dean sneezed into his sleeve and then stepped on the gas as the light turned green.

“When we first started dating, Meg’s friend Eve did a full background check on you. I also know you were arrested for vandalism when you were seventeen and it was expunged from your record.”

“Oh.” It was silent for a moment before Dean started laughing. Cas looked at him, his expression a mix between confusion and amusement. “Well, Charlie told me how you got expelled from two high schools, but still graduated early and ran away to Princeton before you told me.” Castiel fingers dug in deeper when he heard about the invasion of privacy. Not that he was innocent, but it set him on edge. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute, his blood boiling. They turned into their driveway and pulled into their assigned parking space. 

“Me too,” Dean said, holding out his hand to Cas as he walked around the car. Cas hesitated, but gripped it tightly. His other hand started tapping against his leg. 

They walked into their home and greeted Sam, who said that he’d been keeping Grace out of their bedroom. She was currently rolling around on the sofa, purring. Cas smiled at her and set out to remake their bed with clean linens from the closet, squeezing Dean’s hand briefly in thanks. 

“What would I study?” Dean asked as he followed his husband into their room. Cas hummed in confusion. “As a student?” 

Castiel paused briefly as he tucked the sheets in. “Engineering, culinary art, music theory—”

“Music theory?” Dean interrupted, smoothing the comforter down.

“You are an exceptional singer,” Castiel replied. “You could become a teacher like your mother.” Cas replaced the pillows on the bed and sat down, happy to feel the warm breeze from the open windows blowing across his face. 

Dean looked surprised at his admission, but joined him on the bed. He’d never really considered going back to school, as it wasn’t really his thing. College had always been something Sam wanted. Sam was the one who applied himself and studied. Dean was just the screw up who smoked with some dude called Don. Dean shrugged and the conversation dropped off. Dean leaned against Cas, who sat back against the headboard, hand in hand—one exceedingly uncomfortable, the other pondering his future.

When Dean woke up, Meg had arrived and Cas was talking with her in the living room. After some teasing, Meg provided them with some “samples” of extra strength allergy medication. Castiel bought humidifiers, and after the allergist confirmed that it was Grace, Cas and Dean, with much prodding from Meg, decided to get allergy shots. Cas had been worried that keeping Grace would be detrimental to Dean’s health, and needles had always freaked Dean out, but Meg convinced, in her own special way, Dean to be brave, and Cas that he would be fine. Even Sam had been sulky while they waited to find out if Dean responded well enough to the shots to keep Grace. Everyone was much happier when it was clear that with the shots, Dean was fine as long as he didn’t touch his face immediately after petting her. 

Days after the first shot, Sam sat in the armchair while Dean sat on the couch with Grace and Cas’s head in his lap. While Sam and Cas watched a documentary, Dean researched community colleges with more enthusiasm than he had before he was sick. He had direction and supportive family to back him up.


End file.
